The True Legend of Zelda
by jingoye
Summary: Each chapter is a different story about the legend of zelda
1. Default Chapter

True Legend of Zelda  
  
"I hate games."  
  
So the race ends. I never would have thought the three of us would die together so close and simultaneously. Even worst for me, I didn't think we would die in the open green plains. Peaceful scenery suits only those who love pianos and bell whistles. I only tolerate screams whether it is the agony of strangers or mine, but with Death Mountain beginning to swallow the sun in the pink horizon and our drying blood stained though out the greens, I feel okay. In the opposite end of the sky, the dark blue night begins to slide onward like a coffin lid, slowly pushing out the light to the end of the heavens. I swear I can hear the grinding against land as day turns into night. Funny, even a beautiful evening like this can forsake me.  
  
But this is better than some castle dungeon with the smell of mildew on concrete and rust on chains, because the wind kisses me more gently here. It carries the smell of spring sycamores and daisies in her breath, and it certainly helps soothes the flesh pains draping across me. Our bodies lay exactly four feet from each other forming a perfect triangle-pure coincidence, perhaps? The grass underneath one of the bodies begins to slightly shuffle. Blood leisurely drips past my eyes as I focus on the body.  
  
"Zel.da.are you."  
  
Even when Death comes to him he still plays the righteous and pompous hero.  
  
"She's dead, Link."  
  
".Damn you."  
  
"No more grudges, Link. We're dying."  
  
"Damn you..Zelda. Damn it."  
  
He fights to breath, swallowing air and wheezing. Sitting from here, the sounds amuse and please me. His once dark green attire soaks in blood, mine, hers, his; we're a soup of blood and bones. He doesn't know it, yet it's very typical of the hero. The truth, I suppose, for all these type of men seem to circumvent them even at a primal stage. Maybe I'm just too harsh, or maybe they're just that stupid. He wiggles some fingers while his face strains with horrendous pain. Either way, dying men shouldn't hold secrets from each other.  
  
"Link, your spine has nearly shattered. You're nearly paralyzed, besides, there isn't much use to move around. We've lost too much blood."  
  
"Damn you. You better kill me now or."  
  
"Or what, you'll kill me? Keep forcing yourself, and your back will eventually snap. Come on, fight me."  
  
Without any thought I spring onto my two feet standing limp and bent. The venomous burn also follows sprinting from my feet to my spine. I begin to wobble. He screams out in pain coercing his arm to left the boomerang besides him. He's quite a character; he can barely shift his head, yet he continues shrieking trying to move. Realizing that he's nearly paralyzed, he shifts his attention to Zelda extending his bloodied hand to her pale body.  
  
"Zelda. I love you."  
  
My legs eventually give out but not with a little victory token for me to keep. In one motion I take a giant step with my left, kick his arm away with my right, and fall directly between them landing on my sides. The pain is well worth it as he begins to yell profanity at me.  
  
"You evil son of.I thought you said no more grudges!"  
  
"I have none, Link. There's a long line at the Gate. I'm not going to hell by myself with you two besides each other holding hands. If you're going to hold someone's hands, it will be mine. I'm not going alone, so you two can get lost in that line of millions."  
  
"Damn you! Look at you, you powerless freak! You can do whatever you want with me, but look at yourself, Ganon. I got you. I got you damn well."  
  
He eyes my chest, and I follow his stare. I-I-I didn't recognize this before, but my eyes catch half of the Master Sword impaled into my heart with the other half protruding from my back. I gawk at my grisly and bloody reflection from the sword. I've never quite liked my face, and I damn well never liked the look of being dumb-founded on my face either. I don't feel the pain at all just the tingling embarrassment as he laughs heartily at my folly.  
  
"Hahaha.just think of it, Ganon. Instead of pulling the sword from the stone, maybe they'll pull it out from you.hahahaha."  
  
Is a stupid hero mocking me? I chuckle a bit at the thought of it, but my sinister humor wanes as well as my life. These tender winds soften my anger and cynicism. Maybe I have been stupid as well. The truth is all I can express in these great years of battling him. Our subplots have always uplifted me when in times of weak competition. He deserves to know and die wretched like me. I turn my head to him as he still laughs like a jackal. However, his stupidity beneath all that valor irks me. I stand on my knees and run my giant hand at him. The laughter eradicates as whimpers and strains appear. My fingers wrap and compress severely into this throat.  
  
"You listen to me, Link! You damn well listen with whatever is between those pointy ears! I admit, you've been quite a challenge. When I first laid my eyes upon you, I knew you would be a swordsman of my equal, and I respect that. You've bested me many times with your brute strength and skill. You're whole entire life has depended upon how fast you would ignite a bomb and throw it, how quickly you would be able to draw out your sword, but as of this instant, this very moment, your body the carrier of all those talents are gone.  
  
You can't threaten me with you sword anymore, Link. Even worst, your insults are nothing, too. I am the one with a hand around your neck. I am the one who can and will easily shatter it like a twig. I don't want you to insult me if there's intelligence in that head of yours. As of now, we fight this new battle before we die. We fight with a battle of words and reason. I want you to know the truth. I want you to understand the truth, and stop living under the disguise of a hero. Your body will not save you, only your words and definitely anything that resembles your intelligence."  
  
"Damn you."  
  
I press deeper into his throat until he gurgles, and the air completely stops. He still fears death? I see it in his beady little eyes. How can a dying man fear death? He doesn't understand yet what I've felt the past couple of minutes. The night approaches, the shooting stars emerge diving to Death Mountain. I have no more grudges, because I have no more life. He must understand Death to understand me before I can truly defeat him.  
  
"I could snap you neck now. I then could call upon my minions to carry Zelda's body away and have them tie it to my favorite horse and drag or body for all of eternity. I could have them possibly do unmentionable things to her dead body. Or maybe I'm not dying, Link. Maybe I'm just playing some twisted game with you waiting for you to die quickly, so I can conquer Hyrule."  
  
He head erupts with expression, the only haven for the blood to flow. He lip-reads obscenities. I must think to his level for him to understand me, and his brashness is the only key. I let go of his throat, and he hungrily sucks the air around us. Even the wind changes flow to his direction. I eye the shooting stars again as he regains his pose. This must be the most beautiful day of my life. I see the contradictory in everything.  
  
The moon is approaching, while the sun still lingers. The stars arrive while the pink clouds peek. Blood litters the fresh green grass. I see this pretty life as I die. I fight the war as I die in peace. I live life with a frown to finally and hopefully die with a faint smile. It's quite a feeling. I just need him to understand it, but he's not me. I know it is hard. It's hard for a hero to talk to his nemesis. Especially for Link since our previous conversations started with 'I'll kill you' and end with 'You'll never beat me.' Anything between it were just grunts and screams of pain. He hears me by my actions, not by my words. Maybe, I should have snapped his neck.  
  
"Damn you, Ganon. I've seen you. I've seen you kill thousands with the raids, the genocides, and the manipulations. You've nearly destroyed whatever crossed your path to control Hyrule. What kind of intelligent conversation do you want to talk about? How many humans you can eradicate with one spell, right?"  
  
Maybe not.  
  
"So, your vocabulary does extend beyond 'damn' and 'you'."  
  
He forces a smirk as his eyes begin to wander about the sky. I wonder if he's capable of making a wish or to think freely for himself.  
  
"Link, we go back a long way. You were a quite little boy with a sword shoved in your hands. I, too, was in that situation."  
  
"Shoved? I can really see someone shoving you a sword, and you accidentally wanting to destroy the world, and you accidentally killing whatever is in front of you.  
  
That's some shove there."  
  
"Hmph. Let me rephrase that. We are somewhat alike then with the difference that I was pushed into the blade in order to survive other than some princesses' old maid telling me to rescue the princess and get a good wet kiss."  
  
"Damn you."  
  
"Back to the basics, I see."  
  
"You and I have nothing in common! I've seen you. I've seen how you smirked and laughed so loud as people died. It's because of you that.I.I have these uncontrollable shakes during the nights. I hear voices in moments of silence. I stand near walls in open spaces, Ganon. There's a reason why I picked up the ocarina. I needed to calm myself, to quench the fears, to ease the pain of thinking of you. I was just. I was just."  
  
"A boy, Link. You were just a boy like me once. I, too, at a young age shared so many characteristics with you. When it came to violent deaths, there was nothing more than this sick gruesome taste in my gut. You know how I felt then. You know how it feels to watch veins twist and break in bundles. You know how it sounds when the bones snap like branches. You loathe in disgust as blood and organs erupt carrying that nauseating smell of decay and rotten life.  
  
I've been seeing that everyday for eternity now. What I didn't like staring at was a dead face. A dead face could just tell a story all by itself. It seemed as if time just completely stopped, and that facial expression was the evidence, that look of bordering between life and death, war and peace, fear and acceptance. Death became a habit for me, Link, not a routine. I'm not comfortable without watching that face everyday like a baby and its mother's face and lullaby. I've taken so many lives away, stopping their time and pausing their faces that I've simply stop aging. I have been here for eternity, but I always fought with fear and the pure terror in what I've done alone. I pray for them, Link. I honestly do, sometimes."  
  
"You're a twisted freak."  
  
"I didn't create myself. I am what the world creates of me."  
  
"Hyrule did not put a sword in your hand! This world did not tell you to collect the Triforces and end the lives of so many. Are you having regrets, Ganon? Are you developing a damn conscience now that we're finally dying like this? Damn you! Don't have to be really smart to know you're damn insane. Next you'll tell me that you're my father and we should be bonding or something."  
  
"Maybe I should have snapped your neck."  
  
"Go ahead, then! I'll see Zelda anyway! It's better than to hear your damn rants."  
  
"Curse you! How could I have been so charitable to reason with you! I guess whatever in your head is used only to fight after all."  
  
"Man, screw you! You said you were forced into holding a sword? Go ahead what's your reason? You're mother must have known your were one ugly baby and 'forced your into holding the sword' so if the kids didn't play with you, there were always threats at least, right?"  
  
"My mother has nothing to do with this! Curse you! Now I'm going to tell you everything! I want you to know that you've fought a lie all the time! I'm going to make sure you die with more tears coming out of you than the blood from the wounds."  
  
"What truth? Screw you, Ganon. You're the evil and I just did my damn job! I got you, man. I got you."  
  
"So, I was like you, Link. I was out to rid the world of the evil, too! That's how I started out."  
  
"I don't understand. What evil? People enjoying a picnic must be evil to you, huh. I don't understand any part of you."  
  
For a brief moment my blood begins to race again. Understand? Of course, he doesn't understand. The images inside my mind begin to implode. The hatred and rage I've felt so long all these years begins to swallow me again. My hands tremble violently in dire need of soothing, in dire need to kill him. It's a habit. It's only a habit. My teeth clench as both my fists quickly punch into the ground. I guess even in death, I must play the unstable villain when in truce. I steadily fight the urge to kill him. My words lash out instead of my fists.  
  
"Of course you don't understand. You won't understand. You're the hero slaying the evil, because the people tell you to do so, because the people tell you that certain things are evil and you believe them. You're the hero who saves the lives of others yet takes away thousands like me, but it's justifiable because the people say it is good to attack hideous monsters that aren't human and you, like a good obedient dog, wag your tail when they command you. Have you considered why the things you killed are evil? Have you ever considered that all the evil they taught you exists outside of the walls of Hyrule kingdom? Are you possibly telling me that no evil lurks within those walls, or possibly that those walls are not used to safeguard the innocent but to shun away true heroes?  
  
Have you ever considered that every creature you killed was just in its own home and nesting place, just protecting and defending for themselves and their offspring? Of course not, Link, because you were taught that anything not living in a straw and wooden home must be evil. You were taught that dungeons protect only the criminal and the crooked. But you don't stop to think why everyone calls on you to do a job, to be a hero, but yet never answers a question. Why Link? Because they don't care about you! You don't stop to think the consequences of all your actions, the day when you're too old to raise a sword, too weak to hold a bow, too slow to use a hookshot and then what will happen? What happens to a hero who cannot be a hero no more? He's forgotten.  
  
No come comes to give water to a thirsty old man when a new young hero who can save the people and their damn problems, needs that very same water to wipe the smudges from his sword and the dirt from his shoes, Link. I've been here for a long time. I've seen many nameless heroes come and go as tools used to be broken and replaced. Some become myths and fables, but most, many of them are simply just as legendary as silence itself. And you know why, Link? They couldn't understand like you. They couldn't understand even if the truth slapped them and screamed. The only real winners in battle between the hero and the villain are the people sitting comfortably in their homes waiting for the next hero to solve their problems. Can you at least understand that?"  
  
"Man, screw you, Ganon! I do understand that you're still playing those mind games! I do understand that you and I never had or will never have anything in common, but I do know that Zelda died because of you. I do know that you're one freaked up character. I think the blood isn't getting to your head anymore. Man, damn you."  
  
We share the silence together. I guess my blatant comments may have agitated him, but the truth has a tradition of doing that to many people. He huffs angrily while absorbing the stars and the night air, possibly weigh my words against his beliefs. I gaze downward at the sword and my bloody reflection again. Have I ever truly smiled in innocence before? This grin I have, how long as it been on my face? I hear my internal heat beat, it's beginning to slow down. He's thinking, that is great, but I can't undo the years of training she has done to him. I can only offer the truth from my sinister smirk.  
  
"My father was the guardian of the Triforce of Wisdom, Link."  
  
His beady eyes open wide enough to hold the moon. Before he can respond with that little fiery mouth of his, I cut him off.  
  
"I don't want you to argue or to say anything. There are a lot of questions that you may have, and plenty I can answer. But soon, our time will stop and our faces will pause to the moment. I want yours to be in thought. So, I ask you, the hero to listen to the words of the dying villain. I want you to least pretend that you're thinking, pretend that I'm telling the truth."  
  
"Whatever, Ganon. I guess your might bore me to death first."  
  
".As I said, my father was the guardian of the Triforce of Wisdom. I knew he was, but he shielded me from his duties. It allowed me to live a honest childhood. I loved to paint, and he loved my paintings. I remember how he hung all my paintings along the cabin we lived in so prosperously. One day, however, while I was outside playing, I heard my father's scream, such agony in that tone. I hear it every night.  
  
As I ran inside my home, I found a woman and three giant ogres standing over his dying body. I saw it for the first time, the Triforce as extracted it from his body. She slyly grinned and said to me, 'I see you love to paint. You're quite an artist for such a young age. But such beautiful artwork needs something unique that will tell the world it's yours, a true masterpiece made by you, young Dragmire. I believe this will do.' She tossed a wooden cup filled with blood. I could see his finger swimming in it. I still remember the sickly warmth of his blood dripping off my hands. It was his last hug to me.  
  
She also threw a sword twice my size and weight near me, and said, 'If you want to see your father again just stand still and let my ogres devour you. I promise you, it will not hurt at all, but if you want to paint again or be old enough to truly master that sword, then I suggest you pick it up and fight.' With that she vanished, and the ogres came after me. I stood there nonchalant and stoic, ready to see my father again.but the internal pain was devouring more of me than any of them were doing. It was the first time and the last time I ever cried as one of them bit into my shoulders. I heard my own screams. I felt my own bones breaking. I saw my own blood falling, and my reflection with it, too. I saw my fear, and I didn't like it. I didn't like the fear. I've never felt so much throbbing in my life, but they were two types. One was from the ogres ripping me apart, the other from a natural reaction from fear. I just picked up the sword before anything could happen, and that is all I remember. I woke up and found myself in a pile of pulp. I don't remember how I killed them. I must have swung viciously, because there were no arms, no legs, and not even a hair. I'm not even sure if I spared their souls. But to this day, I consider that my greatest artwork ever."  
  
It had passed me by that I had been crying throughout the story. I slap the tears away hoping the weakness goes with it. I look the other direction. I hate fear. I hate the look of stupidity. I hate tears. He catches me in the act, though.  
  
"Who was the woman then?"  
  
"If I answer you question, Link, you will truly wake up from a dream that you've solely based your life upon. You doubt me, and it's understandable, because once your eyes are finally fixated and you have that last breath, you will believe everything you did was good. If I tell you, I guarantee that in your final minutes of life that the rest preceding it was completely wasted."  
  
". You told me to pretend, so I'm pretending to believe you. I won't. I don't believe whatever you say to me, anyway."  
  
"Yes, let's just pretend then. That woman was Impa."  
  
"Zelda's old maid?! You gotta be insane!"  
  
"Pretend, Link! Just pretend, and let me finish my story."  
  
"I rather you just crush my neck, man. That old maid was the true evil? Your jokes really stink."  
  
"Just pretend, then and shut up, Link. Just pretend. Impa was one of the three maidens of the Triforce, Link. She was the maiden of the Triforce of Power. She and her sisters made this world, but unlike them, she would not sacrifice herself. She wanted to rule this world and not allow such pathetic creatures like humans, elfs, and dekus to wander free in it. She in her own mind was too beautiful to die and let us rule a world in her own blood. Her two sisters knew about this and found ways to hide the other Triforces. My father at the time was the last of a guild that protected the Triforce of Wisdom.  
  
The day my father died, she came to the people of Hyrule and promised them greatness and power under her care. Hyrule would become a magnificent kingdom as she showcased the Triforce. My father, Link, had helped the people of Hyrule many times, in times of war and harvest. He was called a great man, a hero of heroes. People would come and pinch my cheeks and say, 'How glorious it is to be a son of a hero. Whatever your father needs we will be here.' But when I told them about Impa and my father's death, they just turned their backs to me in vain, because they followed whoever had the power. He just became another tool. The people you protect, Link, are the descendants of selfish men who went to this land and eradicated the ecosystem here to create their kingdom. Even today they still carry the arrogance of their ancestors using and discarding heroes like firewood.  
  
"You sure got a lot of loopholes, man? How the hell did you become so powerful, then? And why did she become so old and weak? Weren't you just a little boy against a maiden of a Triforce?"  
  
"When Impa found out I was still alive, she told Hyrulians that my very existence jeopardized the future of their kingdom. They were not stupid, yet they were willing to ignore their conscience. They were willing to fool themselves and their children by telling stories-stories about evils that never existed. It was only a matter of time before I was chased like a dog. Some people were indeed feeling guilty of violating their principles, allowing me to run away, but the majority of them wanted to please the woman who both held the Triforce of Power and Wisdom.  
  
I had nowhere else to go. No human would feed me, clothe me nor protect me. I would be lying if I said all were evil for some did try to help me, but even they feared the rejection of their own people. I was saved by the outcasts, the creatures of the night, the same monsters that my father fought against also welcomed me. The monsters that were chased away from their own land came to my aid and raised me. Monsters from all over the land that feared the expansion of Hyrule and knew of Impa's plans came to me and showed me the way. I never thought that such creatures would be able to think, but they are magnificent creatures. The day they sheltered me, clothed me, and fed me, was the day I vowed to become the evil that everyone had made of me. I vowed to fulfill the prophecy of destroying Hyrule.  
  
I knew that without all three Triforces, she would not control the world. However, the Triforce of Courage was well hidden from her. She simply forgot about me as she went on her little adventure to find it. She used people to search for it calling it religious expeditions. It's very funny how so many religions sprang up because of her and her lies to just get people to do her work. Meanwhile I mastered such beautiful social skills and made pacts with every creature that feared Hyrule. With the backing of several hundred creatures, I developed my physical and magical skills. They taught me well. I am a product of nearly every organism that has existed in Hyrule, Link. I am the product of hatred and fear. I hideously deformed my human side to become The Ganon.  
  
And very much like you, I came with a sword, the same sword I used to kill the ogres and a shield to her dwellings. I fought the fools calling themselves warriors and wizards. I bested her, weakened her, and stole her main source of power, the Triforce of Power, of course. It's quite an irony isn't it? My line of blood has been sworn to protect the Wisdom, yet she steals it. She's the maiden of Power, yet I steal that. It's quite a fair deal. Eventually the monsters came to believe in my power, and eventually with her weakened body, she rediscovered herself and her new role as the princesses' maid. It was only a matter of time she would find young warriors, new fools to kill me and retrieve the Power.  
  
Think of it, Link. She is the one who sent you on your missions. She knew all about the Triforces, the weapons to use, the locations of Fairies, she sent you with everything you needed to find me and defeat me. Could an old maid have such knowledge? She has many forms and many servants, Link. Impa helped you in many, many ways. She needed you to collect Courage, and once your past that test, she needed both you and Zelda to fight me. You never went to the future with that ocarina of yours. It was the gateway to her celestial mind, Link. I knew it would be difficult to destroy her body, but I found the gateway to her mind and set out to discover her secrets and destroy it. She sent you, then. You never saw the future, you only saw her true form.  
  
I, Link, may be a monster, and may be a villain. But I never harmed the princess, only putting her in sleep trances as a bargaining chip with her. I only destroyed races that made pacts with her. Even with the two Triforces on her side, Link, she is still practically powerless. She needs the Power to unlock the other two rejecting her soul. I must admit, though, she did a wonderful job in finding someone who could so skillfully yield the Master Sword. Link, this was the sword she threw at me the day my father died. I speared it into a sacred stone praying that someone worthy enough would one day come retrieve it and fight the evils that exists in this world. I guess my prayers were answered. Now I've become the canvas and this blood is truly beautiful paint."  
  
I stare at his eyes. He's thinking of all of Impa's tailored instructions throughout the past decades. I finally see the face of a true hero trying to recognize and think beyond the role. Sadly, it only lasts for a few seconds. Denial, as he would put it, is damn twisted. He begins to convulse again and yell profanities as the blood begins to spill onto the grass like sadistic snowflakes. The thought of not dying as a hero disturbs him. Although I've faced so many physical, mental, and spiritual transformations, I am still human beneath this shell, too. I am capable of empathy. I run my hands at his throat again ready to snap it. He freezes and sadly looks at me.  
  
"Link."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Pretend everything I told you was a lie. No, everything I told you was a lie."  
  
The tears roll down his face gently as he stares into my eyes, and shoots a warm smirk at me. He needs to believe that he was the hero-a hero saving the princess, fighting the evil that exists in this world. He fought Ganon, the evil wizard warrior that tried to conquer Hyrule. It's that simple. He needs to believe it. I press deeper into his throat.  
  
"Thank you. better to die like this than have a Like-Like come out and eat me alive."  
  
"Or worst, a Goron on a diet."  
  
The air begins to stir against as he hungrily forces air into his lungs. We share a roaring laughter with me. I take a peek at the shooting stars and make a prayer again. I gaze at his face one last time, and see he has no longer has a fear of death. He must be feeling what I've felt the past couple of minutes, the drunken stupor of death eating away our sanity and our grudges. There's nothing left to hate or love when the fear of death is gone. We are born into innocence, and we die that way. We continue our roaring laughter as the soil beneath us starts to color red and the wind pushes some pollen onto our faces. Flowers don't sprout in the night, and flowers surely don't bloom on the faces of the dead. I wipe some off and watch them as they dance into the night like fairies. There's nothing left for us just enough memories and truths to last before the sun disappears. I am drunk with death, too. I don't feel my fingers clutch, nor do I hear the snap. I just know that only one echo of laughter is filling the night now.  
  
I won when he realized the truth. I lost when he wanted to live the lie. He has beaten me.  
  
"Bravo, young Dragmire. It was quite a performance."  
  
I turn around eyeing the enormous shadow heading towards me. The blood and sweat dripping onto my eyes doesn't help. It looks like a Goron from its figure, but a transformation happens and it takes a figure of a woman as the moonlight begins to reflect her face. Damn her.  
  
"You did the right thing. He dies truly believing that you fabricated a wonderful story to disturb him. He needed to believe dying in his own legacy, but now it's your turn to die believing what you like. I control history, and I control destiny. You will always be a villain and I will make sure that Link will not be forgotten. People will tell stories of him. This way, you will live on, and the pains you suffered will last for eternity, too. This has been a splendid little game."  
  
"Impa.. damn you."  
  
I extend both my arms and pull both their bodies towards me. I grab onto both their hands with my left hand with my right clutching the handle of the Master Sword. I smile at Impa as she curiously looks on.  
  
"I may live on in the infamy you will create, but at least I go to hell with my friends."  
  
There isn't any pain at all. I feel the sliding of the sword as it pulls out from my body, but I don't feel anything. I just feel the last warmth of the sunset, and the warm of the hands of new friends. I laugh like how a villain should laugh. Soon, I don't hear my laughter anymore.  
  
There is a beautiful thing about death. Even when it comes it gives me a grace period of less than a minute to watch the environment, to watch our three dead bodies holding hands. I stare at Impa standing there as my soul floats along with the shooting stars to Death Mountain. I just want to absorb everything for one last time, and know the truth has been spoken.  
  
"Princess Zelda, They are dead now."  
  
Among the three hands grasp together, one begins to shuffle. Zelda's cold hand retreats from the strong gasp of Ganon. She stands up wiping the pollen away and gives a sly grin of both victory and disgust. She motions to the old woman.  
  
"You take all three Triforces and reset the game."  
  
"Yes, Zelda."  
  
"And separate these two bodies so that they will go to hell alone. And Navi, the game is over now."  
  
"Yes, Impa." 


	2. Story 2

II.  
  
Funerals are pretty, I suppose. Flowers fit neatly in columns, blooming even in death with its roots cut off. Corpse dressed in fine attire, served like cake for the mourners as they move in line and give final goodbyes- worthless goodbyes and regrets that should have been resolved when the living were living. Funerals are pretty, nevertheless. It's comforting, has order, and produces a sense of compromise among all things.  
  
But my funeral isn't beautiful. The worst thing in life is when a person knows their fate is sealed, yet spends everyday afterward concentrating on that one day, that one moment when decay becomes father, mother, and lover. My fate is sealed here on the Temple of Time. It is quite simply an open funeral taking these arduous steps to the top of this placid mountain. The evening sky slides the day like a fine casket. The wind will be my mourners. And sadly, my bones will be the confetti, evidence I once roamed in this pathetic life.  
  
I climb these stairs, hoping for a quick service. Maybe that would be too easy. Maybe I'm not a martyr looking for the ultimate peace. No, I'm not in peace. I'm never in peace. I hate being here. I hate resenting. Why do I resent? Why do I hate? Why are funerals so dainty and death so crude? I confess to you, friend. I have confessions-many confessions, enough to raise mountains if I whispered to the ground of all the death that follows me. I wish evil was something like a body part, something attached to me like an arm or finger. Something I could label evil itself, because sincere evil has no sense, no justification of right or wrong. Evil is whatever good is not, and good is not many things. But I am not evil. And that is the dilemma haunts me to this very moment. I am not the monster they make of me. I regret. I feel emotional pain. I am you. If I was truly that heartless, none of those pains would affect my life, but they do, slowly and meticulously. The sense of right and wrong balances me between them. Evil follows me.  
  
That boy was stupid. Stupid boy. It is a sad day when a boy becomes the man. It is even more tragic to know when that man is a brave man, and that was exactly what he was, a brave man. But bravery is only jewelry to some people, something to be worn when in dire need. He, however, defined that word in every sense of it. Brave boy but dead. I killed him. I murdered him. I enjoyed sliding my sword through his neck. I heard his desperate attempt to gag for air, his fight to stay alive. I saw cough blood with disgust and with tremendous shock, but he never look defeated or scared. He fought like man and he died like one. I, too, died a little, but not like a man, nothing like a man. I am nothing. That boy is dead, his princess in mourning, and I have no equal-no equal to extend my purpose, my will, my desire to live on. I have no equal to challenge my existence as the Ganon. I am nothing, now. What is there left to do when the climax of life has passed? The ending has been done, and I must be the one to linger on. That boy, so young, so stupid, why did he have to die?  
  
So I track to the Temple of Time, praying to live back in the past when the battle was eternal and finality was only a myth. Endings is the true evil, friends. Closure. Resolution. Finish. There is nothing more to conquer than death itself. 


End file.
